


tastes like misery

by lostin_space



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: M/M, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-07-25 01:03:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20023987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostin_space/pseuds/lostin_space
Summary: alex remembers what could've been





	tastes like misery

**Author's Note:**

> someone who is more experienced at writing smut should've written this, but i did my best so i hope you like it!  
> also i have no idea what to tag this so
> 
> inspired by listening to 1956: The Greatest of Adventures/Tom from Hello Again literally all day

“Alex, will you go take a shower already? We’re already late because of you.”

Alex eyed the man he called his husband. He looked angry, but he looked angry most days. That’s what he gets for marrying a drill sergeant. Still, he looked good when he was tying his tie. If Alex could give his father credit in anything, he knew how to pick a man based on looks even if he was fifteen years older than Alex himself.

“Can we stay in?” Alex asked as he went up behind Lance, his teeth grazing the pale skin of his neck before he was shoved off. 

“We said we’d be there and I’m tired of looking bad in front of your father,” Lance said simply. Alex licked his lips and considered trying to pull him to bed again. He’d tried so many times over the last year, but it was glaringly clear that he was meant for appearances only.

“Are you tired of me?” Alex wondered. It seemed like the only thing _to_ ask. What was the point of being married if the only time he would kiss or touch him was when they were surrounded by his happily married friends?

Lace sighed and looked at him through the mirror. “I’m not tired of you. Marriage is the greatest thing two people can share.” Alex had to be careful not to show the unadulterated disgust he felt towards him and the robotic voice he had just used. “Now, please, go take a damn shower.”

Alex obliged with no hesitation and slammed the door behind him.

He turned the shower on as hot as it would go before stripping down. When he looked at his naked body in the mirror, he felt like he looked good. He didn’t understand why Lance didn’t like him anymore. For the first year of their relationship, he had doted on how fit Alex kept himself and he’d done a fair bit of touching. It was a little unsettlingly obsessive then, but, honestly, he would take that over the nothingness he’d been getting since they got married. Alex couldn’t even remember the last time he’d been loved the way he really wanted.

Actually, yes he could.

A smirk found his face and he let his fingertips drag down his chest. He got in the shower with the image of Michael Guerin, fine and as beautiful as ever, built in his mind. The hot water helped, seemingly all too reminiscent of the other man’s body heat. 

Although it had been three years since Alex had seen him, touched him, tasted him, he still seemed vivid in his mind. Effortless curls, beautiful lips, sexy… _everything_. Alex could still feel him, the heat of his mouth and the way his hands felt like the most skilled things the world had ever known. It didn’t take much effort to taste the sweat on his skin or to see how wrecked he looked when he came. It was like he never left.

Alex let his hand follow the trail of hair down his stomach. Apparently, all it took was the memory of the cowboy to get him hard.

Their last night together had been one for the books. Micahel had come to visit the base under false pretenses. Alex had known it was wrong to lead him on, to promise a real relationship with no intention to carry it out, but he’d been desperate. Jesse had said Michael was safe if he stayed away and that Alex was free to date whoever‒as long as it was who Jesse wanted him to. Alex needed one more night with the love of his life before he dated Jesse-appointed Lance.

And Michael didn’t disappoint. He showed up with a cowboy hat, a thin t-shirt, and ratty, soft old jeans with nothing beneath them. They barely exchanged so much as a hello before Michael had him against the wall, hands roaming and hips grinding through feverish kisses. 

Alex moaned, his jaw dropped as he stroked himself a little rougher at the memory of them not even making it to the couch. They’d fucked on the floor, frantic hands needing every inch of each other. Michael had taken control and made sure Alex could see, feel, think of nothing but him. Even now, years later, his husband’s name escaped him in favor of Michael.

Michael, who had stripped him bare and pinned him against the cold tile with nothing but his bodyweight. Michael, who had showered him in sweaty ‘I love you’s while thrusting deeper and deeper until he had Alex undone completely and fully. Michael, who had practically begged to be fucked before Alex had even been able to hold his head up again. Michael, who had been too reluctant to let the night fade and had followed the sex with cuddly, sleepy make-out sessions and handjobs. Michael, who had smiled so lovingly and draped himself against Alex with suddenly pure intentions. Michael, who had fallen asleep to the sound of Alex’s heartbeat.

_Micahel, Michael, Michael_

“Michael,” Alex whined, his cheek hitting the shower wall as his knees grew weak. He didn’t care if the man in the other room heard him. He didn’t matter. Michael mattered.

With him, it was like the world was on fire. Every moment led to the next with trust and love and adoration and the idea of what a life with him was something so overwhelming that his head spun. Days of them, nights of them. Pure, reckless, childish love that he couldn’t imagine could be repeated in anyone else. No one else had the power to ruin him in the sweetest way like Michael Guerin.

The shower rained hard against his back, stinging all while the steam threatened to choke him. Still, Alex pumped his fist faster, moans liberally falling from his lips. He could hear the echo of Michael’s in his ears and it made him that much weaker. What he would give to hear them in person again.

The memories were ripped away by angry knocking on the door.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Alex?! We’re meeting your father in twenty minutes and you choose _now_ to jack off in the shower like a fucking teenager?!”

Alex squeezed his eyes shut tightly, desperately fighting to keep Micahel with him. Teenagers. That’s exactly what they were. Every time he saw him, he was seventeen and free and loved. Michael didn’t give him the opportunity to forget‒he always looked at him like he was his world. And Alex knew he failed him, failed to make him realize that he was his world just the same. He had to make up for it with touches, touches that still stayed burned into his skin to this day. Because Michael Guerin left an impact, he was the greatest thing to grace Alex’s life. His voice, his hands, his chest, his laugh, his tongue, his hair, his face, his love.

Pleasure rippled through Alex’s body once he finally got himself over the edge to the idea of something he couldn’t have. Alex sunk down the wall, landing on the shower floor with heavy breaths and still chasing Michael in his mind. He was drunk on a man that hadn’t even been in the room. 

“I swear to God, Alex! You’re such a selfish piece of shit! You know how your dad gets, do you think I want that on my plate?!” Lance scolded. Lance. That was his name.

Alex took a moment to gather himself before shutting off the water. He didn’t bother actually bathing. If he reeked of sex, that was no one’s business. Except, now that the fun was over, he was hit with reality. The reality that Micahel had stormed out the next morning after making him breakfast in bed, crying helplessly after being rejected one too many times. Alex’s chest tightened.

“You’re such a fucking child! Have fun explaining this shit to your father!”

Alex closed his eyes, a shaky breath falling in time with the tears that slipped past and over his cheeks. If he tried to go back to Roswell, there would be no one to go home to. That man that he could’ve had once upon a time was gone. He couldn’t get Michael back if he tried. He had made it clear he’d chosen an easier time with his father over Michael. The end. It didn’t matter that he missed him so much it hurt. It didn’t matter if he didn’t reenlist, if he got a divorce, or even if he just wanted to sneak away for vacation and dedicate time to learning a newly 25-year-old Michael. That was a different time, that would always be a memory and never again a reality. He missed his chance.

He deserved everything he got.

**Author's Note:**

> also on my tumblr: spaceskam


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